(I have a service dog and request a booth so he can sit or lie underneath without being in anyone’s way. He wears a bright red vest with the proper identification of his use and I also carry an ID card proving his certifications for use. That also means there is a little bit of a wait unless we make reservations to let them know about the dog and table requests. This happens when waiting for a table.)

Customer: “I didn’t know this was one of those dog friendly places.”

Waitress: “It’s not.”

Customer: “Well you’d better tell that girl over there she needs to put her dog in the car. Wait, you’re not allowed to sass customers are you? Don’t worry. I’ll tell her.” *to me* “Hey, you. B**** with the dog!”

(I’m thinking he sees someone else waiting for a table with their dog but when I look over I see him waving a cane at me.)

Me: “He’s a medical dog which makes him allowed everywhere your cane is allowed. So why don’t you turn around and take your self-righteous a** back to your seat and keep your nose out of business you have no right to be in?”

Customer: “You respect your elders, missy! I fought a war for you to be able to take that beast in this fine establishment!”

Me: “I give respect where respect is deserved. You may have fought a war back then but I need this dog because I fought a war so you can keep your freedoms. And as for my beast, he’s better mannered than you are. At least he knows how to act in public.”

(The customer paled before scurrying back to his seat and the other people in the restaurant applauded me. We were given a booth as far away as the man as possible right away and the manager brought out food and water for my dog as well.)